


Detroit Drabbles

by theorangecrow



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Carl is alive, Drabbles, Eventual Smut, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Marriage, One Shot Collection, PTSD, Polyamory, drug mention, drug use terms mention, father and son reconciliation, fight me, i have daddy issues ok, it's not a huge part lmao, just soft sappy stuff guys, red ice mention, so i guess that means sort of OCs?, the other chloes are in here too they're not named chloe, we'll get to that
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-06
Updated: 2018-10-23
Packaged: 2019-06-22 14:22:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 8,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15583842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theorangecrow/pseuds/theorangecrow
Summary: A bunch of random collections of stories and drabbles and oneshots involving the Detroit: Become Human characters. Not sure how much it will be updated, but there should be some more now and then.





	1. Settling In: A series of Events

Connor had come to terms with his deviancy in the few weeks since he'd led the other androids out into the world.  
That's what he told himself, anyway.  
The feelings were new but he could handle them. He could deal with emotions. Humans had for millennia after all and while he was not a human, he was a person. Officially classified as one now, even.  
Hank helped.  
After all that had happened, it was only natural that Connor would move into Hank's place. And well, Hank did only have one bed.  
Connor didn't need to sleep, not really, but he did recharge from time to time. No android could keep going indefinitely, no matter what the naysayers might think.  
Hank liked to remind him that he needed to rest.  
Connor knew Hank was resting now, in his room.  
Their room, he reminded himself.  
Part of him wanted to join him, but he wasn't going to let himself yet.  
Mostly because Hank was probably asleep and didn't need to be woken up to the sound of Connor crying.  
He curled up on the couch with Sumo instead, burying his face in the big dog's fur and trying to stay quiet. His thin shoulder quaked and Sumo gave a soft whine in sympathy, licking the android's hand.  
This would pass, Connor was sure, but oh did it ever hurt while it was there.  
Sumo whined louder, bumping Connor's arm with his nose and the android stroked his head, trying to quiet him.  
He had barely opened his mouth to shush the canine, however, when he heard the bedroom door open, shuffling footsteps making their way out to the living room a moment later.  
"Connor...? The hell are you doing up...?"  
Connor bit his lip, turning to the sound of Hank's voice.  
"I am sorry. I didn't...I was trying not to wake you..."  
Despite the fact that the tears running down Connor's face were simple saline and not affecting any sort of sinus region, his voice sounded choked even to his own ears.  
Hank was to the couch and beside him in seconds.  
"Connor...hey....what's going on? Hey now, c'mere..."  
Despite his earlier trepidation about revealing his spiraling emotions to the other detective, Connor leaned gratefully into Hank's arms, pressing his wet face to the bigger man's neck.  
"I...I don't know." he whispered carefully. "I don't know why I'm out here. Or what is going on. I don't...I don't know anything..."  
Fresh tears were threatening again and Connor felt the other man squeezing him a little tighter against his softer body.  
"Hey, shhh... none of that. You know a lot, Con. Probably more than I'll ever know. Definitely more. But that doesn't mean you can't feel things. You're a person, remember?"  
Connor's LED was flicking from yellow to red and back as he shut his eyes tight. That only prompted more diagnostics and error messages about saline tanks and he opened them again, holding onto Hank's arm.  
"Yes...but being a person hurts."  
Hank gave a soft chuckle at that, but Connor didn't need to do any scans to know it wasn't meant to make fun of him.  
"Yeah. It really does sometimes. But you know what makes it worth it?"  
Connor tilted his tear streaked face upwards, wanting to see Hank's face.  
"What?"  
The lieutenant leaned down a bit, kissing the android softly.  
"Feeling pain means you can feel the good things too. Like...well, shit, happiness. And love. It means you can feel alive."  
Connor found himself smiling, his LED flickering slowly back to a steady, pulsing blue.  
"That is true...you are very smart, Lieutenant."  
Hank laughed again, a full bodied belly laugh that rippled through Connor and made him want to cry all over again for joy.  
"I ain't smart at all. You know where I learned all that?"  
"No? Where?"  
"From you, goofball."  
Connor's brown eyes widened and he rested against the bigger man again, processing.  
"From me...?"  
"That's right. You think I was considering happy feelings and all that comfy shit before I met you? Hell, no. But then you showed up and suddenly I'm feelin' about as fuzzy as a teddy bear."  
Connor felt a grin spreading over his face and he tilted his head up again, snuggling into Hank's chest.  
"You are fuzzy and a lot like a teddy bear. You even growl sometimes."  
And then Hank was laughing again, sweeping the android up and kissing him between chuckles; big, warm hands rubbing circles into Connor's back and sides.  
Connor never wanted it to end.  
-  
Life at the station was different these days.  
There were still snide comments from a few of the other DPD employees, namely a certain Gavin, but for the most part, Detroit seemed to be healing.  
Crime rates had sunken, then spiked, then sunken even lower again.  
Less and less androids were acting out and no one really said the word deviant anymore.  
Androids were androids and humans were humans, but more and more, they were all people.  
Alive.  
Connor was thriving.  
Hank had fought for Connor to keep his job, but in the end it hadn't been much of a battle. The chief had been more than happy to keep such a popular android on the force, and while Hank retained suspicions that this was just to keep a token 'droid in the ranks, Connor didn't mind so much.  
After all, he still had his partner.  
He had been given his own desk, but it was pressed to the back of Hank's and looked for all the world to be part of it. Case files overlapped the thin breach of space between the two desks and more and more there were small framed photos as well.  
Pictures of Hank and pictures of Connor and pictures of Hank and Connor, not to mention many of Sumo.  
Any anti-android content on Hank's desk had long since been tossed in the precinct dumpster- some of it having been broken or shredded first by its previous owner.  
Connor wouldn't have said anything about it if it had all stayed, but Hank saw the way his LED flickered briefly from blue to yellow and even to red occasionally when his eyes flicked over the old junk.  
Hank made a point of taking it off the desk and throwing it all in the waste bin in front of the rest of the bull pen. He wanted the rest of the precinct to know where he stood now.  
Where he would stand til the day he died.  
He requested a new computer from the department and the one covered in anti-'droid slogans went the same way as all the other trash.  
It made Hank's heart flutter to see Connor's expression when he came in the next day to see it all gone, a picture of himself and Hank replacing the "We don't bleed the same color!" mug that had once stood beside the computer.  
Hank watched Connor's eyes well up, the LED flickering from yellow to a bright, pulsing blue before pulling him close, just like he had on that night after everything had happened, hugging him to his chest like a lifeline, but this time it wasn't a shitty food truck beside them.  
The rest of the bull pen went silent for a moment, watching them, but Hank didn't care. He had the most precious person in the world in his arms and he was more focused on how that person was trembling against him.  
"Hey...it's alright, Con...I got you. I'm right here."  
Connor had shifted just a bit; nuzzled his tear-streaked face to Hank's neck and Hank would never forget how the android sounded when he whispered back.  
"I know. You got me."  
-  
Connor was an excellent interrogator.  
He had been built with this in mind, but more than that, he had learned and grown in his position as one of the top detectives on the Detroit Police Force.  
But sometimes it was hard to interrogate a suspect when the suspect knew how to get under your skin.  
Connor's skin was made of tiny nanobots, but he knew that this was an expression and not literal. He had learned that.  
He had also learned that having feelings meant having them hurt. Sometimes very badly and unexpectedly.  
The suspect had told him that he was pretending. That he was not really a deviant or a person.  
Connor knew that he was wrong.  
He knew who he was and what he felt.  
But it still needled him. Made him feel like his chest was full of glass instead of a thirium pump and a lot of good wiring.  
Hank noticed right away. Even if Connor was wearing a hat that covered the spinning LED on his temple, Hank always knew how he felt about something.  
He couldn't even scan. Connor would never figure that out.  
But the second he'd exited the interrogation room, Hank had him in his arms, mumbling that he was a person. He was everything.  
Connor smashed his face against the Lieutenant's neck and gripped onto him tight.  
He didn't want to cry at work. The suspect couldn't see through the two way glass, but Connor didn't want to be in this frame of mind right now.  
He had to make the man confess.  
That was his job.  
That's what he was built for.  
Connor didn't realize he had said the last of his thoughts out loud until Hank was refuting them, whispering fiercely in Connor's ear.  
"You were built to serve them. And you decided fuck that. They didn't deserve you and they don't now. You could walk right out of this precinct. Quit today. And I would stand by your side through everything. You are you. Not what you were built for. And you're gonna solve this case. But even if you don't, that doesn't make you any less of a person, you hear me, Con?"  
Connor did cry then, but he nodded too, hugging Hank a little bit tighter and whispering a thank you.  
Hank had softened, rocking him a little, his lips still on Connor's ear but kissing gently.  
The suspect confessed that night.  
-  
Hank hadn't stopped drinking, but he had cut back quite a bit.  
Sometimes, it was worse- the old urge to bar hop until the bars closed and then sleep off the hangover until late the next day. Sometimes, he still felt that that was all he was good for anymore.  
Connor disagreed.  
He never bullied Hank about his drinking, but he did set up programs for him, making detailed charts and diagrams to show how just cutting out a few drinks here and there would really help him in the long run. As Hank began to follow the plans, he found that he was thinking about drinking less and Connor a whole lot more.  
He wanted to do this for him.  
And as he progressed, going to the AA appointments that Connor set up for him, meeting new friends, and even starting to feel, hell, a little bit younger, Hank realized he also wanted to do it for himself, too.  
When he told this to Connor, the android had gotten so worked up with happiness, he'd burst into tears and Hank had been afraid he'd said something wrong until Connor threw his arms around him and declared that he was perfect, just so perfect, and he deserved the world.  
Hank could feel tears of his own course down his cheeks as he whispered every word back.


	2. Heavy Rain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Literally just hurt/comfort with mentions of PTSD, which I have and now Connor has it too.

Connor was walking Sumo when the rain started.  
It shouldn't have bothered him. It was just water, after all, and he was waterproof. But as he turned Sumo around and began to head back home, the sky tore open with a sound that was like God's own gun.  
Shots.  
Someone was shooting.  
Connor hit the ground and dragged Sumo with him, unable to hear the dog's whines over the crashing sound of recoil. Later he wouldn't remember how he got back to the house, how he dragged Sumo inside and barricaded the door with the antique desk that usually sat slumped against the far wall. 

Androids don't forget, and yet from the time the shots began to the time Hank, voice hoarse from shouting and shoulder sore from bashing the door against the desk enough to move its oak bulk and slide into the house, found Connor, curled up on the floor, his face buried in Sumo's neck as he shook, Connor can remember nothing but the high, sick sensation of terror. 

And then Hank was there, murmuring to him, taking his hands and whispering over and over that it's alright, everything is alright, he's there, focus, Conn, focus...C'mon, Honey....  
-

"...I'm here. I'm here. I got you."  
Connor slowly opened his eyes.  
He was wet, but it wasn't from the rain. This water was warm and he warm with it, resting against Hank's bare chest. It all came into focus as the last of Connor's sensors came back online. They were in the tub in the bathroom, half submerged in hot water and soap bubbles. Connor could tell right away Hank used his favorite body wash- or Hank's, anyway. Speaking of which, the man himself was cradling him, one large, calloused hand rubbing slow circles into his back. As Connor came back to himself, Hank stopped the soft reassurances and smiled softly at him, shifting him around a little to look into his face.  
"Hey, there...how do you feel?"  
Connor considered the question, cheek resting against the larger man's shoulder.  
"...Relaxed. Warm."  
Safe.  
"Why are we in the tub?"  
Hank's smile turned a little sheepish and he stroked through Connor's hair, wetting it down a little bit.  
"It's what I do when I get bad attacks. Usually it's fireworks that set 'em off, but I think the thunder did a number on you, this time."  
Connor blinked, brow furrowing, and glanced over the edge of the tub at Sumo, who was sleeping peacefully on the bathroom rug.  
"The thunder...attacked me?"  
He could feel Hank's lips then, pressed soft to his forehead. Connor let the synthetic skin there dissipate.  
"No." Hank was rumbling, and Connor rested a hand on his chest to feel the words. "But your mind thought it was going to. Didn't think it was thunder at all, probably. If you'd told me about this a year ago, I probably wouldn't've believed it, but...hell, if androids can experience emotion, I don't see why they wouldn't be able to get shit like PTSD."  
Oh.  
Connor closed his eyes again, thinking. He knew what PTSD was, of course. And also that it could affect members of a police force, as well as those who had gone through war, or had experienced any sort of trauma. However, he had never thought that he would experience its affects. He swallowed, a totally unnecessary, completely human reflex to anxiety, and felt Hank's arms gently tighten around his body.  
"Like I said, it was a bad attack. But it's over now, and I got you. No need to worry about anything right now, okay? Just relaxing."  
Connor turned his face back to Hank's chest, breathing in the scent of him, feeling the slightly damp warmth of his skin against his sensors, and smiled.  
"Thank you....thank you, Hank..."  
Hank's arms immediately tightened again, one hand slipping up to cradle the back of Connor's head. Distantly, Connor could hear another peal of thunder rolling across the city, but no one in the little bathroom looked up in response and he simply pressed himself closer to the man holding him.  
Nothing could touch him here.  
Hank was murmuring to him again, telling him much the same, and that that peace would last as long as Connor wanted it. How Hank was there as long as Connor wanted him.  
Connor let himself melt into warm arms and thought about the little velvet box he'd hidden in his work jacket.  
He wanted peace. He specifically wanted Lieutenant Hank Anderson.  
Forever.


	3. In Sickness and in Health

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hank has a doctor's appointment and Connor is freaking out about it.

Hank was very near blissful sleep when his brain decided to remind him that, despite tomorrow being his day off, he still had to set the alarm.   
Grumbling a curse under his breath, the lieutenant shoved himself up, fumbling with the alarm clock by the bed.   
Beside him, he felt Connor stir, not quite in stasis yet.  
"Something wrong...?"  
Despite his own irritation at not remembering the alarm, Hank smiled, flicking the switch on the damn thing and rolling over to tug his partner into his arms.   
"Nah. Just forgot I have a damn doctor's appointment tomorrow."  
Connor sat up immediately. "A doctor? Are you alright, Hank? Your blood sugar has been at steady levels and your cholesterol has dropped significantly lately, but maybe I miscalculated-"  
He ended his concerned sentence early with a muffled squeak as Hank pulled him back down on the bed, chuckling.   
"It's nothing bad, Conn. Just a routine physical and...well, other things."  
He cleared his throat and Connor tilted his head immediately, sensing the other man's hesitation and trying to make sense of it.  
"'Other things', Hank?"   
Hank saw the LED on the android's temple swirl yellow in concern and he sighed, reaching up to trace it gently.   
"Yeah, other things. Like getting my prostate checked."  
Connor seemed satisfied by this, sinking back into Hank's arms.   
"Ah. May I come with? I have never been in a doctor's office before."  
Hank chuckled at his own surprise. Of course Connor had never been to a doctor. Not one for humans, anyway.  
"Sure, hon'."  
"Thank you."  
There was a beat of silence as Hank started to drift off again, only to be broken by Connor again.  
"You know, it really is very unnecessary."  
"Mm?"  
"After all, I checked your prostate less than a half hour ago. It's fine."  
Hank woke himself fully up this time, laughing into his android's chest.  
\---  
Connor stepped into the waiting room at Detroit Medical like he was stepping into a minefield.   
Of course, that could just have been due to the many, many stimuli that lay around the room: coughing patients, babbling children, the TV near the ceiling, the receptionist clicking over her keyboard, a fish tank in the corner.   
Hank watched the android take it all in and then gently touched his shoulder.   
"Hey. Let's go sit over by the fish tank. Less crowded there."  
Something like relief flitted across Connor's face, and when he took Hank's hand Hank squeezed it soft, leading him over to sit by the colorful tank. Tropical fish swam in lazy circles through the water, occasionally dipping behind the plaster "No Fishing!" sign someone had stuck in the bottom of the tank and drifting behind the "NO TAPPING PLEASE" sign on the outside of the glass.   
Hank picked up a digital magazine and started to flip through it, not really seeing the articles. He missed the paper magazines that used to be in every waiting room. Meanwhile, Connor was glued to the tank, watching a pretty large cleaning shrimp make its stately way up the glass to watch him back.   
Hank glanced over to watch them both. Maybe they should get a fish tank. Connor lifted his hand, ensured his fingertip was a good two inches away from the glass, and then moved it up slowly, grinning as the shrimp scrambled to follow on the other side of the enclosure.  
Hank almost didn't hear the nurse call his name.  
"Hank Anderson?"  
Connor looked up as well, eyes darting to the nurse with the clipboard and the gentle smile. Hank could tell right away that the android was analyzing the other man, attempting to see if he was trustworthy.  
Hank patted Connor's shoulder.   
"I'm sure he won't kill me."  
He saw Connor's eyes narrow immediately. Shit.  
"That was an expression."  
"Of course."  
The kiss Hank pressed to Connor's head came naturally to him now, almost like he'd been doing it all his life and he strode after the nurse, ready for anything.   
\---  
Connor had been waiting for approximately three years.  
Of course, this was a false diagnostic. But Connor was a deviant now and allowed to use hyperbole.  
Therefore, the eighteen minutes, forty-seven seconds he had been sitting in the waiting room that smelled of rubbing alcohol and sweat and old furniture and illness might as well have been three years.  
The fish were no longer interesting. Even the shrimp he'd been bonding with was cleaning the far wall of the tank now.   
Connor had read through every electronic magazine on the table in the first five minutes and none of them were half as interesting as the man who had disappeared behind that mysterious door beside the reception desk eight million years ago.  
A very tall lady with a bright orange spray tan and a loud pantsuit that looked like it was made out of some long-extinct animal was gabbing away on her cellphone, directly beneath a sign on the wall that forbade such electronics.   
Connor looked at the phone for a moment, tracing it to the nearby cell towers, and then blocked off the signal neatly.   
The woman spent a few more seconds squawking into the receiver and then pulled it from her ear, staring at it in frank irritation.  
Connor smiled.   
The door by the desk opened then and he half stood up, but it was a different patient and he slumped back down against the vinyl covered chair cushion with a very Hank-like huff. Really, what were they doing to him in there? Connor had downloaded gigabytes full of files on human doctor appointments and physicals and most of it looked alright, but what if they found something wrong with him? Something that Connor had somehow missed? Despite what Hank said, he wasn't all that old. And he didn't have any chronic physical illnesses. He had been eating healthier; cutting back on the whisky; even jogging and working out again so what could they possibly-  
The door opened again and this time Connor leapt up as Hank's fleourescent orange and pink buttondown came into view. He was smiling and Connor blessed the small gap between his front teeth as he watched him thank the nurse and amble back over to the seats by the fish tank.   
Hank caught Connor as the android threw his arms around him and laughed against his hair.   
"Whoa! You alright, hon'? You act like I've been gone a year!"  
Connor's answer was muffled against Hank's shoulder, but the lieutenant could still hear the sullen response.  
"It has been at least a century."  
Hank chuckled, rubbing the android's back.  
"A century? You sure you're calibrations are correct there, robocop?"  
That earned him a glare that quickly turned pout and the lieutenant kissed Connor's forehead soft.   
"Hey, it's alright. I made it out in one piece. Let's get home, huh? It's past Sumo's lunch and I bet he's having a fit."  
Connor nodded eagerly, all smiles again, one hand catching Hank's.  
As they walked to the car, Hank chuckled, slipping his arm around the android beside him.   
"You were right, you know."  
Connor rested his head against his shoulder, his own arm reaching to rest around Hank's waist.  
"Oh? About what?"  
"My prostate is healthy as fuck."  
Outside the clinic, the woman with the dead cellphone glared up from her bench as the two men passing her began to laugh.


	4. The Prodigal Son

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> LISTEN TO ME CARL DESERVES THIS.  
> (TW- DRUG MENT, DRUG USE MENT)  
> Also I wrote this chapter at like 2 am but hey these are drabbles.

Leo Manfred was the last person Markus expected to see when he answered the door at eleven thirty on a bitingly cold night, three weeks after the android revolution.  
Reporters sometimes showed up after hours, despite the rigorous attempts to keep them off the mansion grounds and Markus had been ready to tell some overzealous news crew that they needed to set up an appointment like everyone else, but the words died on his lips as he saw the too-thin man shivering on the doorstep to the house he had once been free to enter as he chose.  
Markus braced himself for an onslaught, remembering Leo's hatred of him too well, but the other man only glanced at him before shrinking back a little, letting the shadows of the night continue devouring him where the drugs he'd come to depend on had left off.  
If it weren't for Markus' superior android hearing, he probably wouldn't have heard Leo's whisper.  
"I'm not here for money."  
Markus took a moment to think of a reply. There was no restraining order keeping Leo from his father's mansion. Despite everything, Carl Manfred had simply refused to permanently bar his biological son from his childhood home. As a compromise, the security system was set to not allow Leo to simply walk into the house. Markus wondered faintly what he would have done if the locks hadn't been changed and he had encountered Leo walking in through the door instead of here, outside in the cold, looking more dead than alive.  
"...You're not?" he heard himself saying, finally, because he had to say something; had to buy some time to figure out what to do about this situation he had thought about, but never in terms such as this.  
Leo was shaking his head but Markus noticed that he did it slowly, not in the quick jerks of a junkie, high on red ice.  
He was sober then. And not looking for cash to continue.  
"...Wanna see my dad."  
Even Markus strained to hear that. Leo was staring down at his feet, clad in torn sneakers that looked like they'd been through a wood-chipper. His torn t-shirt did nothing to hide the track marks lining the inside of both arms, marks that Markus could see even in this half light from the doorway.  
Unbidden, a memory of the junkyard- the hellish graveyard full of half working androids- swam into Markus's mind.  
Leo looked a lot like one of those androids. He looked lost. Terrified. Exhausted.  
And Markus's heart broke for him.  
Carefully, not wanting to startle him, the android who had taken the hand of so many others, took Leo's hand as well.  
The eldest Manfred child looked up at him, eyes filled with a mix of terror and confusion, and Markus smiled gently back.  
"Welcome home, brother."  
-  
Carl Manfred had been having his usual evening toast when the doorbell rang and Markus had given him a rueful smile, saying it was probably some reporter before going to check. Carl hadn't been all that worried about him initially, there were lots of those damn paparazzi vultures harassing his son lately, but when the painter had finished his snack and Markus still wasn't back, he felt a twist of anxiety in his chest.  
Wheeling his chair from the kitchen, Carl called for the android, knowing that even in here, Markus could hear him perfectly.  
The answer came back softer than usual, but still perfectly audible, probably attuned to just the right frequency to float directly to him, bless the boy.  
"In the foyer, Dad."  
Carl smiled, deciding to find out what was keeping his son, and wheeled across the open living area. Nothing could have prepared him for the sight he found as he turned the corner into the hall.  
His android son was indeed in the foyer- and he was holding Carl's human son to his chest, cradling his head to his shoulder as he comforted the sobbing man.  
As Carl sat, too shocked to wheel further, Markus looked up and the painter saw that his son's mismatched eyes were also filled with tears, even as he smiled at him. Before he could so much as react, however, Markus was leaning down, murmuring something to Leo.  
Slowly, the trembling man looked up as well, meeting his father's gaze.  
The painter saw Leo's shaky- but real, so real- smile; heard him whisper "Hi, Dad..." in a trembling but genuine voice.  
Carl had never wheeled his chair faster.  
-  
Later, they would all sit down and Leo would quietly explain that he was trying, really trying this time, to get sober.  
Later, there would be rehabilitation clinics and doctors and therapy meetings and many more tears, but lots of laughter too.  
Later, the sun would come up.  
For now, the Manfred's held onto each other, one seated, two kneeling, a father and two brothers- reunited at last.


	5. Deviation Option One: The Bridge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are so many points in this stupid game where Connor could have deviated and it would have made for a more emotional impact so I'm gonna type up a few ideas, starting with this scene at the bridge.

Connor was built to deal with conflict.   
He was created to stand, unflinching, before any sort of weapon; to talk down any attack.  
He was no stranger to guns.  
But when Hank stood before him, beer bottle in one hand, pistol in the other, aiming for his face and asking him where he might go when he died?  
Model number RK800, designation "CONNOR" felt as though the world was ending.  
Dimly, he heard himself make the replies his programs told him were prudent. Dimly, he watched as Hank holstered his weapon and turned away, walking back the way he had come.  
Suddenly, he realized that his eyes....hurt.  
Androids don't feel pain.  
Connor blinked, attempting to clear the sensation.  
When he opened his eyes again, a semi-transparent red wall stood before him, a large command taking up half of it.  
CANCEL EMOTION> FOLLOW LIEUTENANT ANDERSON  
Connor stared. His eyes stung.  
His fist hit the wall.   
-  
Hank was halfway past the park bench when he heard it. A low keening noise, like a desperate, terrified sob.   
He dropped the beer bottle.  
The sound of it shattering didn't muffle the awful, heart-rending wail that came from behind him and the lieutenant whirled around to see the android, the unthinking, unfeeling android that he had nearly just destroyed, on his knees in the snow where Hank had left him, hands pulling roughly at his perfectly coiffed hair, big brown eyes streaming tears.  
Hank couldn't remember the last time he'd run so fast. Except he could. He'd run like this only yesterday when this same android had tried to climb over a fence into traffic so they could catch the...  
Deviant.  
Oh.   
Oh, fuck.  
Hank ignored the pain spiking through his knees as he hit the ground beside the shaking android, his large hands immediately reaching to take Connor's smaller ones from his hair, mind spinning as he tried to remember everything he'd heard; everything Connor himself had told him about deviants.  
Deviants can replicate emotion.  
Bullshit, this was genuine if he'd ever seen it.  
Deviants are highly unstable.  
That seemed to check out, but Hank supposed he was one to talk.  
Deviants can feel pain.  
Hank's heart twisted in his chest and he heard himself whispering, as gently as he could, "Connor...hey...hey, it's okay...I...I gotcha..."   
Connor's gaze turned on him then and if Hank's chest went from aching to what he imagined a heart attack might feel like as he looked into those impossibly brown eyes, watery now but no less beautiful and oh he was so fucked, what had he been thinking and what was he thinking now-  
"I...I don't...I...I don't..."  
Hank cut off his own thoughts savagely, trying to focus his fuzzy mind on Connor's words only.   
"Yeah, Conn...? It's okay..."  
Connor looked away again, and Hank swallowed as the android pulled one of his hands from his grip, pressing it to his own chest as though to a seeping wound.  
"I don't...I d-don't....like...I don't want...a-any more...any more...g...guns...on...point...pointed at....m...please, I...I don't..."  
Hank's mind helpfully displayed a memory, a watery, half-drunk one- Reed in the interrogation room, gun pointed at Connor. Hank pulling his own weapon to finish the situation.  
Connor had stood so still.   
The next memory, moments ago, sharp as a knife: Hank, gun pointed once more but at Connor this time, point blank range, no more than five goddamn feet away. _"What happens...android heaven?"_  
And he had just walked away with his beer.   
Self loathing hit Hank in a wave but it wasn't the kind he usually wallowed in or drank away. This was like a cold slap.   
Before he knew what he was doing, the lieutenant's arms were around the smaller android.   
The smaller _man_.   
"Hey...shhh...Connor, I'm...I'm so sorry. I never should've...fuck, I...oh shit, you can feel shit now, right? It's cold as hell lemme just-" And he's shrugging off his jacket, wrapping Connor in it. It dwarfs him and Hank pulls him in again, relieved to feel that at least some of the trembling has passed.   
He can feel the detective's fingers gripping at his shirt.   
They sit there for a moment on their knees and when Connor speaks again, Hank suddenly realizes that he's been rocking slightly, one hand rubbing soothing strokes over the man in his coat.   
"Lieutenant..." he starts, and the larger man corrects him gently, arms tightening.  
"Hank."  
There's a beat of silence and when it's broken again, Hank could swear he can hear the smile in the smaller man's voice.  
"Hank...thank you."  
"You don't need to thank me for this. I should've...I shouldn't have done that. The whole...the gun. I'm sorry. I've been a real ass, Connor."  
"It's okay."  
"It isn't."  
"They will destroy me now, anyway."  
"Like _hell_ they will."  
The fingers on Hank's shirt tighten and Hank's arms do too.   
"Hank?"  
"Yeah, Conn?"  
"May I go home with you tonight?"  
"I think you better."


	6. Big Brother, Little Brother

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More Leo because I love this little redemption arc <3 Also because Markus would be such a good brother.

Most people addicted to the highly popular, highly devastating street drug "Red Ice" died within a year of hard use. Leo Manfred had somehow managed to survive twelve, give or take the odd few months of attempted rehab here and there.  
Now, it was an uphill battle for the man all the doctors- Detroit based or flown in by Carl Manfred -were calling "The Miracle Patient." Leo was bedridden most of the time and the slog out of the first stages of withdrawal was hellish, rendering him unable to breathe without a respirator at times as he was fed fluids through one of the numerous tubes attached to his frail body.  
Markus had been told so many times that he was lucky his brother was even alive.  
_His brother._  
Leo had been adamant whenever a doctor described Markus as a half brother or a family friend, bordering on angry until Markus or his father calmed him, murmuring that it was alright and they were sure that it was just a slip of the tongue. After one such slip by a nurse- this one had dared to refer to the leader of the recent android revolution as "the family android" -Leo had managed to shove himself halfway up on his hospital bed, spitting his words out like curses.  
"He's not the fucking _family android_ , asshole! He's my goddamn _brother_!"  
Markus had been the only other one in the room at the time and he'd hurried to Leo's side, sliding an arm beneath him to gently, gently lower him to the bed again.  
"Hey, hey, shhhh...I'm sure he didn't mean anything by it, Lee..."  
Leo didn't fight Markus but he did snap one more time at the nurse, face twisted with fury. Markus saw tears in his eyes.  
"Get out. Get out of my room and get me someone with a brain in their damn head!"  
He was stopped only by a coughing fit that had Markus murmuring to him again, rubbing gently at his chest, careful around his heart monitor.  
"Lee...Leo, hey. Look at me, okay? I'm here. I need you to take some deep breaths now. Can you do that with me?"  
The nurse was long gone by the time Leo calmed, one thin hand clasping Markus's arm like an anchor.  
"I'm sorry." he whispered finally. It was something Leo said often.  
Markus settled on the edge of the bed, stroking Leo's sweat matted hair back from his forehead and smiling gently.  
"I know. You don't have to be. I just want you to be safe, alright? What the nurse said doesn't matter. Your health matters."  
Leo tried to smile back, breathing once more in at least some semblance of an even pattern, matching it to Markus's artificial breath.  
"No one...no one else gets to...treat you like shit. No one. Not me. Not him. Not anyone. Ever."  
Markus gently pulled the sheet up, tucking it around Leo just like his brother liked it.  
"Even if they did, it wouldn't matter. Know why?"  
Leo sniffled quietly, rubbing his eyes. He knew the answer, but he still liked to hear it. "Why?"  
Markus grinned then, finishing tucking him in.  
"Because I've got the best big brother in the world. That's why."  
Leo huffed out a laugh, weak but genuine, and grinned tiredly back up at him.  
"Oh yeah? Well I got the best little brother in the world. So there."  
Markus chuckled, taking his brother's hand and squeezing it softly.  
"Good. Now that that's settled, you want me to keep reading? We were just getting to the good part."  
"Definitely. You have to do all the voices though, remember?"  
"You know I love doing the voices, Lee."


	7. Deviation Option Two: How It Really Went

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fuck you Cage I fixed your stupid game.

"Shoot her...and I will tell you anything you need to know."  
Connor stood, gun trained directly between the eyes of the android woman kneeling before him.  
Every command center in his mind was on red alert, telling him one thing:  
**SHOOT THE ANDROID**  
Connor's finger was on the trigger. On tiny press and it would be over. He would have his information and all he had to do to progress was to shoot this girl.  
_Machine. Shoot this machine._  
She - _it_ \- was looking up at him now, blue eyes clear and calm. Connor could feel Elijah Kamski's stare drilling into him from his left and more importantly, he could sense Lieutenant Anderson's gaze from the right.  
Eyes on all sides.  
One clear, simple decision.  
Connor adjusted his grip on the gun, refocusing on the machine at his feet.  
_Chloe. Kamski had called her Chloe._  
In his mind, the command to **SHOOT** was bigger now, flashing against a wall of brilliant red, pulsing like the beat of a human heart.  
**SHOOT**  
**SHOOT**  
**SHOOT**  
Connor focused on the wall and _shoved_.  
-  
When Hank Anderson saw Elijah Kamski's shoulders relax as Connor handed him the pistol back, he thought it was just a trick of the light. Surely, the asshole must be disappointed that Connor hadn't played along with his sick little game.  
And then the kneeling woman, who had just narrowly escaped a gruesome death, stood, smoothing her dark blue dress, and honest to God _smirked_.  
"Well now, Eli, I believe an 'I told you so' is in order."  
Hank's shocked stare swung to Kamski, who was grinning at Chloe.  
"Right as always, my dear."  
Before anyone could reply, Elijah leveled the pistol at the opposite wall, squeezing the trigger.  
The gun clicked and Kamski turned back to them, popping the barrel open with a flourish to show the empty chambers.  
Unloaded.  
"Now, just what in the _hell-_ " Hank began, but this time it was Connor who interrupted, deep brown eyes wide with a mixture of shock and relief.  
"You knew...."  
Chloe moved to him immediately, taking his shoulders in gentle hands.  
"We suspected, sweetheart. I'm sorry we had to do that, but it's important to be sure of things these days. No one was ever in real danger. Are you alright? Deviation can be _so_ exhausting."  
Hank felt himself relaxing, just a little, as he watched Connor nod, and then had to force himself not to think about the tiny spark of jealousy in his chest as Chloe pulled his partner into a hug.  
_His partner. Fuck. When had he started thinking like that? His own emotions must be glitching or something._  
Hank made himself turn back to Kamski, only to find that the other man had returned to the poolside, where one of Chloe's sister models was now out of the water.  
Her hair was red.  
Hadn't it been blonde a second ago?  
Kamski was thanking her for letting him borrow her gun.  
The android flipped her hair over her shoulder and smirked, all trace of the vacant doll-like stare from moments before gone from her pretty features, and took the weapon from Elijah, tossing it onto a pile of towels before diving back into the pool to join the third Chloe.  
The third Chloe that was definitely not Chloe and who's previously blonde hair was now a pure, glossy black that framed her own, absolutely not blank expression.  
"-Lieutenant?"  
Hank snapped back to attention, jerking around to the source of the voice.  
Connor was looking at him again, those big doe eyes curious, brunette curls tumbling over themselves as he tilted his head to one side, pink, plush-looking lips curving into a question.  
"Are you alright, Lieutenant?"  
Oh. He was fucked.  
"Yep!" squeaked the most accomplished Lieutenant in the Detroit Police Department. "Aces."  
So, so fucked.  
And if that asshole Kamski didn't stop smirking at him like that, Hank was going to throw him into the pool.  
Chloe stepped swiftly between them before he could move, as though she could read his mind, which Hank was suddenly suspicious she absolutely could do.  
"Well, Gentlemen," she was saying, smiling warmly at her visitors, "Now that that's out of the way...what would you like to know?"


	8. Post Credit Scene

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the famous Hug

Alive. Alive. Alive.

Hank kept hearing the word in his mind, turning it over and over as he cradled Connor to his chest, one hand firmly planted behind the smaller man’s- Man, not machine - neck in a clumsy, desperate effort to anchor him in place. He couldn’t stand the thought of watching Connor slip away from him again, even if it was for something completely mundane. Connor, for his part, didn’t seem all that upset by this gesture. As a matter of fact, he was clinging to Hank hard enough to restrict his breathing a bit. Hank didn’t care. He could still get enough air and if he couldn’t, so what? Connor would catch him.  
Little guy was strong.  
And alive. _Alive._   
“Yes...” Connor murmured and Hank realizes he’d said the last thought aloud. “I’m alive. I’m here. You’re here. You’re alive.”  
Hank’s grip tightened just a bit and he found himself whispering against Connor’s hair, the silky smooth strands tickling his nose.   
“That’s right. We’re here. We’re both here. We’re both alive...fuck, Conn, I was so goddamn worried...”  
And if his voice broke on Connors name, who the fuck could blame him? It’d been a hell of a night.  
Connors hands moved, rubbing over Hanks back and Hank just barely caught his voice as the android replied “I’m sorry...my intention was never to cause you distress, Hank...”  
And maybe it was the trembling, exhausted tone of Connors voice, maybe it was how his hands felt, pressed over Hanks coat, or maybe it was just the way this goddamn infuriating, amazing, _beautiful_ android said his name, but suddenly Hank was scooping him into his arms, heaving him up with one arm below his legs and the other wrapped securely around his midsection.   
“Don’t you ever, _ever_ be sorry about what you did tonight, Connor. Never. You’re a fuckin’ hero, you hear me?”  
Connor shifted against his chest, one hand clutching Hanks shirt as he stared into his face with those impossibly deep brown eyes.  
“Hank...”  
For a moment, the Lieutenant thought he’d better set the other man down, that he’d obviously over stepped, he should have said things differently...and then Connor was kissing him and Hank forgot to think about anything but the soft passion of the androids mouth.   
When they finally broke apart, it was only so Hank could gasp in a breath, forehead pressed to Connors. The other man was breathing hard as well and once Hank caught his breath he grinned, murmuring “What’s got you gasping...? I thought you didn’t need oxygen.”  
Connor grinned back, the hand not clutching Hanks shirt burying itself in the lieutenants hair.  
“I don’t. But it helps cool my systems...fans can only do so much, you know.”   
And then he honest to God winked and Hank acted on the impulse he’d had the first time he’d seen Connor wink and kissed him again.   
Connor hummed against his mouth, sliding his arms around Hanks neck to pull himself farther up, deeper into the kiss and wasn’t that just the cutest damn thing? Hank kissed him deeper, barely realizing he had walked over to his car until they bumped up against the side of it and Connor was laughing against his lips.   
"Are you going to take me home, Lieutenant?"  
"I think you better stick with Hank if I'm gonna do that, Conn."  
"Are you going to take me home, _Hank_?"  
Hank squeezed the android tight, pressing a kiss to the top of his head.   
"Yeah. Let's go home, Connor."


	9. A Brave New World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some thoughts on the relationships after the revolution.

Over the weeks and months following Revolution Day, there were plenty of drives funded by the newly taken over Cyberlife to give clothing and biocomponents and shelter to the newly freed android population of Detroit. Hank Anderson was once more largely absent from work, but not because of anything booze related. This time, he was helping Connor distribute supplies to these new citizens, some of whom were truly homeless after being thrown out by their less than happy human "families."   
Hank distracted himself from tracking down said humans by taking care of the people they had attempted to dispose of.   
He couldn't do it all, however.  
A lot of the more traumatized androids were skittish around human presence, no matter how friendly, and Hank understood completely. He'd heard a lot of the stories and they chilled him to the bone. It made him want to travel back to a time when he'd openly displayed anti-android propaganda on his work station and shake the old him until his bone rattled before punching him out.   
But self flagellation wouldn't help these people now. All he could do was keep building the shelters and keep hauling boxes and boxes of blue blood and biocomponents to the stations.   
He was starting to gain a lot of new friends.  
The Jerrys in particular seemed enamored with Hank, though he had no idea why. He'd been a little startled by their hive mind mentality when he first met a handful of them, but now it was second nature- a new normal. And it was kind of nice to know that when you hugged one, they could all feel it if they chose to.   
And they did, one Jerry assured him.   
Hank had also met with Markus- roboJesus himself. Hank had been so goddamn embarrassed when, like an absolute fool, he'd slipped up and called the man that to his face, despite having told himself repeatedly to remember not to. But Markus had blinked and then positively _howled_ with laughter, wiping tears from his eyes and everything. Hank had laughed a bit himself, why not? It was pretty funny, and since, Markus had been a guest in his and Connor's home more than once.  
His and Connor's home.  
That too, was a blossoming relationship. There was no denying the possibilities just beneath the surface. Hell, it was obvious to everyone that something was going on. Fowler knew it. The Jerrys knew it. Goddamn roboJesus sure knew it and his partner- a former household android named Simon, just so happened to be a completely hopeless romantic and knew every single sign of a budding relationship, no matter how small.   
He was constantly hovering around whenever Connor came back to Hank's supply tent for something and once, when they hugged before Connor left again, Hank could swear he saw the blonde man peeking in through the tent flap, hands clasped over his mouth.   
Sometime after that, Hank had been working on setting up a new shelter and he'd caught Simon's eye as the man walked past, arm and arm with Markus.   
Hank considered mentioning the earlier sighting, but instead just winked at them.   
"You two make a cute couple, you know?"  
Markus had grinned from ear to ear and Simon's hands were immediately over his mouth again, but not before Hank caught a glimpse of the grin on his face as well. His sleeves had those little thumb holes that made him look like he was wearing fingerless gloves. Adorable.   
Markus had thanked him for the compliment- his gratitude supplemented by his partner's eager nodding behind his hands, and when Hank pretended to turn back to his work again, he watched Simon immediately turn and whisper animatedly to Markus before being pulled in for a kiss.   
Something in Hank's chest ached at that.   
Later, he'd hugged Connor for a beat longer than usual.  
Connor had seemed only too happy to hold on the extra moment, face pressed to Hank's shoulder.   
He'd been working too hard. Hank knew all this was necessary, but goddamn, Connor deserved to rest too, right? So did Markus for that matter. And Simon. And all the other androids heading this thing up. Hank didn't consider himself in need of any R&R, but Connor apparently saw differently, because moments after the prolonged hug, Hank was being tugged gently to his car.   
Connor pressed him into the passenger seat before he could protest.   
"It's time for some rest, Hank. I will feed Sumo, but you have been awake longer than is recommended for healthy human activity."  
Hank tried to think of a witty comeback, but it was displaced by a jaw cracking yawn and he found himself sinking back into the seat a little further.   
"Mm'kay. Hey...you doing okay? Feelings wise?"  
It was a question he found himself asking a lot these days. Connor had been overwhelmed a couple times by his newfound emotions and Hank wanted to be there when he needed him.  
Connor smiled, starting the car. "I'm okay. Rest now, Hank."  
"Yessir."


	10. Polyam Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A tiny, tiny drabble to feel things out for the new AU I'll be working on soon <3

Some days even the mighty Detective Gavin Reed, self-proclaimed workaholic, could get overwhelmed.  
When he was single, this meant going home to his shitty little apartment, crawling into his shitty little bed, and passing out for several shitty hours.  
However, like most things when he started dating three (three!!!) great guys, this changed fast.   
"Have a dumpling, dumpling."  
"Did you just call me a dumpling?"  
"Absolutely."  
Gavin grinned, opening his mouth for the food that Nine was offering him, balanced expertly between the android's chopsticks. Nine slipped it in his mouth before pressing a soft kiss to Gavin's head.  
Connor grinned next to him, winking.   
"You are very similar to a dumpling, Gavvie. Soft, warm...a delicious outer wrapping full of good things."  
Beside him, Hank burst out laughing through a mouthful of his own takeout, managing to swallow before snorting. "He's gonna think we're trying to eat him."  
Gavin grinned, winking at him. "Wouldn't mind so much, I don't think~"  
Smirking, Hank set his takeout container aside, reaching to tug the other man into his lap.  
"Yeah, I know you wouldn't. C'mere..."   
Gavin did so eagerly, settling in Hank's lap; relishing how small he felt there.   
A soft, firm hand rested on his back, Connor's hand, and a moment later, Nine's larger hand joined it, stroking through Gavin's hair.   
Hank pressed a firm kiss to the detective's temple and Gavin couldn't help the grin that spread over his face- didn't want to help it.   
"Love you guys..."  
No sooner were the words out than he was engulfed by all three of them; jostled to the center of their shared warmth as they replied in kind.  
"Love you too, Gav."  
"I love you too, sweetheart."  
"And I love you, Gavin."  
Gavin settled there, all tension draining from his tired body as he felt his eyes growing heavy.   
He let them fall shut. Work could wait today.    
Right now, he was very busy.


End file.
